I always wondered who the strange people are who come to Panera and order oatmeal. And just sit there, eating their oatmeal. Don’t they have oatmeal at home? Can they possibly love oatmeal so much that they prefer it to all the wonderful things one can get at Panera? The egg souffles alone make this an attractive place to go. And the Mediterranean flatbreads! The cheese pastries! The fresh baguettes!
And now I know that these sad folks are gastrointestinal (or maybe heart) sufferers who want to feel like they still can go out and enjoy a cafe just like everybody else.
Klara was playing with her Play-Doh yesterday.
“You made a sausage!” I exclaimed. “This looks like a sausage!”
“I make a snake, mommy,” she explained. “This is a snake. Sssssssss!”
Too much oatmeal makes everything look like a sausage.
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